Tag: spectral voices

  • The Castle Of Ghosts

    The Castle Of Ghosts

    The castle of ghosts was the fortress of my fears and anguish.
    The castle of ghosts also held my deepest terrors within its walls.
    It rose majestic and formidable on winter nights of solitude and storm,
    yet stood equally clear on silent, warm summer evenings.
    There was no season in which I could not glimpse it on the horizon—
    Each time I surrendered to my dreams
    and let my subconscious strike my heart,
    unlocking a secret chest filled with arcane mysteries
    and precious jewels.

    The voices I heard were those of malevolent spectres,
    intent on robbing me of my joy and my imagination.
    They sought to annihilate and utterly destroy
    all my dreams and visions—deemed by them mere madness—
    when in truth they were the very essence of my being,
    The essence of my heart, secretly nourishing my fantasies,
    those fantasies brimming with hope and desire,
    With stars and dawns yet to come.

    I could no longer entrust my secrets to any human soul,
    After all the harm had poured upon me like icy rain
    On a tempestuous night,
    while countless daggers and arrows pierced my heart and body—
    as if I were born and destined
    to a life woven with anguish, grief, powerlessness, and wretchedness.

    My heart was entangled in brambles,
    whose sharp thorns made it bleed perpetually,
    draining all the vital, creative energy I harboured within—
    leaving me a bloodless creature,
    devoid of impulses to guide me forward
    Along my dark and uncertain path,
    where every step was like a fragile, slender thread,
    ready to snap under its own frailty.

    Survived invisible storms,
    silent battles no one ever saw,
    I carried within me an armour of ash,
    hardened by time
    between fleeting shadows and light.

    The castle of ghosts was, in truth, the castle of my surviving selves—
    versions forged through countless traumas, abuses,
    and dreadful events that cast down my soul, my heart, and my body,
    to the point where I died many times over,
    only to be reborn as a new person each time.

    And now I had grown accustomed to losing all that I possessed
    only to gain something else—
    Something that would grant me another identity,
    another name,
    and another heart.
    Elisabetta

  • The Cursed Lantern

    The Cursed Lantern

    The cursed lantern glimmered in a village swallowed by the night,
    Where moonlight dared not tread,
    The lantern swayed with ghostly light,
    Its flame was a spectral thread.

    Beneath the sky of ink and fear,
    The lantern’s glow revealed,
    A dance of shadows drawing near,
    In silent, haunted reels.

    On cobbled streets and through the mist,
    Where echoes seemed to breathe,
    The lantern showed what once was kissed,
    By fate, in shadows wreathed.

    Each flicker told a tale of woe,
    Of lives entwined in pain,
    A family’s sorrow, long ago,
    Their stories were lost in the rain.

    The whispers arose from empty graves,
    From echoes deep and cold,
    Their shadows stretched, and souls were entrapped,
    Into tales forever untold.

    In darkened alleys, secrets were clinging,
    The past breathed with each sway,
    Unsettling scenes the lantern brought,
    As night consumed the day.

    A flower wept by ancient trees,
    A leaf’s laughter faded,
    In ghostly scenes and memories,
    The lantern’s light invaded.

    And when the dawn began to break,
    The lantern dimmed away,
    In a gloom where spirits stirred,
    The curses that had ever lingered.

    Beneath the spectral light it cast,
    The village’s heart grew still,
    Each haunting vision from the past,
    Fulfilled a darkened will.

    Through misty veils and shadows deep,
    The lantern showed the way,
    A spectral guide that could not sleep,
    As night erased the day.

    The eerie glow revealed lost scenes,
    Of lives once full of cheer,
    Now trapped within the lantern’s beams,
    Bound by sorrow and fear.

    A flower wept by ancient trees,
    A leaf’s laughter faded,
    In ghostly scenes and memories,
    The lantern’s light invaded.

    In every flicker, every flare,
    The village’s fate was sealed,
    A tale of loss, of endless care,
    By shadows ever revealed.

    Its light was a beacon of the past,
    Where spectral voices sighed,
    The lantern’s curse, a shadow cast,
    In every tear, it cried.
    Esther Elizabeth Racah

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